


Buzz Words

by deinvati



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Eames' Stupid Cupid Exchange, Gift Exchange, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, cracky porn, what can i say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 21:27:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17815823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deinvati/pseuds/deinvati
Summary: Arthur likes to fuck with Eames, in more ways than one.  So what if he wants a little bit more?





	Buzz Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teacuphuman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacuphuman/gifts).



> Little to no redeeming qualities here, you’re very welcome. 
> 
> For my cracky-porn loving co-mod and fearsome fandom friend teacuphuman. 
> 
> Thanks to Lystan, as always, for reading everything I’ve ever written. Shh. It’s not weird. 
> 
> Prompt: Risk Management

* * *

 

Arthur nosed over the velvety strip of skin at Eames' hipbone, teasing, tasting. Above him, Eames thrashed his head on the pillow, fists wrapped around the restraints at his wrists, straining towards Arthur and any kind of friction.

"Fuck, Arthur," he breathed, eyes clenched shut. "Can you just…"

"Just what?" Arthur breathed over the curled hairs at the base of him, barely touching. A drip of pre-come escaped Eames' foreskin and rolled down his length, and Eames thrust his hips into the air. Arthur touched him with the tip of his tongue, catching the drop and listening to Eames' breath stutter. Arthur grabbed the lube.

He coated his fingers, warming it before he circled Eames' hole, applying tiny kitten licks to the tip of his penis at the same time. Eames' breathy grunts did things to Arthur, and he had to wrap a hand around himself just to relieve a little of the pressure. When he slid a finger into Eames, slick and easy, Eames' grunt turned into a sigh of pleasure and his fists pulled hard enough on the restraints that his biceps bulged. Arthur licked his lips.

"Just make some synergy?" Arthur said before he wrapped his lips around Eames, one finger sliding in and out of him.

"Oh fuck, shut up," Eames groaned, bowing up into Arthur's mouth and chasing him as he pulled away.

"Bandwidth," Arthur murmured into Eames balls as he slid in another finger.

"Fuck, fuck," Eames whined, eyes shut tight, hips coming off the bed as he fucked the air.

"Risk. Management," Arthur growled against the crease of his thigh and crooked a finger against Eames' prostate.

Eames came with a cry, hips churning, and Arthur didn't let up, following him, milking him for every drop, only wrapping a hand around Eames after he'd shot three arcs onto his stomach, and then pulled three more out of him. When the aftershocks finally wore down, Arthur withdrew his fingers and straddled Eames' hips. As he jerked off onto those gorgeous tattoos, Eames' sleepy eyes opened and he gave Arthur a lazy smile, and Arthur's brain whited out.

Afterward, they lay side by side staring at the ceiling and not talking, coming down from their highs. He'd released Eames' wrist cuffs, but Eames had just folded his hands under his head and stretched luxuriously, content and languid. His wrists didn't look chafed, but Arthur would get up in a minute to rub lotion onto them anyway and clean them up, a signal they were done and it was time to leave. He lay still for as long as he could.

Eventually, Eames rolled to his bedside table and grabbed the pack of cigarettes. "Synergy," he muttered as he lit two of them. "You're a right bastard." But he was smiling as he handed one to Arthur, and Arthur took it because they smelled like Eames.

He rarely smoked, and the first few drags made his head swim. At least that's what Arthur told himself it was when he reached over Eames' sweat-slick body to put it out. He raised an eyebrow at Eames, cool and unaffected, while his stomach flip-flopped. "Synergy is a very important concept. I don't know what you're talking about."

Eames just shook his head and took another drag as Arthur heaved himself toward the bathroom. He'd been to Eames' place enough to recognize the washcloth as one he'd used before, and which shelf the lotion was on. Eames didn't say anything as Arthur cleaned him up, a silly act which Arthur probably didn't need to do, but which he appreciated Eames allowing every time. It was their routine, and it hurt Arthur's heart.

He padded back to the bathroom to rinse and hang the cloth, then tucked himself back into his clothes. He'd never stayed before. He'd never asked if he could. But it wasn't part of their routine, and the routine was a good thing. Probably. He kissed Eames goodbye, Eames pulling on his tie before letting it run through his fingers, and Arthur tried not to read into it.

* * *

 

Cobb was on a tangent the next day. He'd arrived before Arthur, scurrying to round up enough chairs to seat everyone at the board room table he'd discovered in an empty conference room. He was sweating and his hair flopped on his forehead, and Arthur gripped his arm long enough to check his pupils. Cobb glared at him.

"I'm fine, Arthur," he clipped. "Now get everyone rounded up. We've got a meeting in five."

Arthur rolled his eyes at Dom's back. He hated this. Cobb did it at least once on every job. He never started a heist without a plan, but he'd pull the team into a circle and play "let's see who has the best idea OH WAIT IT'S ME." Luckily, Arthur had developed his own strategy for getting through these meetings.

"This is a team approach," Dom started, standing at the head of the table next to a flip chart and looking them each in the eye. "I need every single mind in this room _laser-focused_ on our target." He drew a bullseye on the chart. "We've got to work together."

Arthur cleared his throat. "Could we maybe brainstorm some ways to build more team synergy, Dom?"

In the seat in front of him, Eames' head jerked up.

"That's a great idea!" Dom said, pointing his marker at Arthur. "Synergy, yes." He wrote it on the board right underneath the bullseye.

Arthur leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "I also think," he said, his voice pitched low, "we should make sure we are pooling our resources. Make sure we aren't siloing."

Eames stiffened. Cobb nodded slowly, rolling the marker between his palms. "Good, good."

"I just mean," Arthur said, pausing to blow out a breath, which might or might not have landed on Eames' neck, "we want to hit that target. Hard. We don't have time to mess around."

"Yes." Cobb pointed at him again. "I like that." He drew an arrow landing dead center of his bullseye, tapping it for emphasis. "Synergy. Siloing. Good stuff. Anything else?"

Eames snapped a pencil and everyone looked at him. There was a long, drawn-out pause where attention shifted back to Dom and his expectant stare.

Arthur, reluctantly, raised a hand. "I mean, I don't know if it'll help… but…"

Eames' hand gripped the arm of the chair, harder than was probably necessary.

"Go ahead, Arthur," Dom encouraged.

"I could maybe do some risk management?" he offered.

Eames jolted out of his chair, a scowl on his face, and stormed from the room. Everyone turned to look at Arthur.

Arthur glared at the door where Eames had exited. "What the hell is his problem?"

Dom shifted. "I'd better go check on—"

Arthur stood. "No, Dom, it's alright. I'll go. I think we were starting to get somewhere. You stay and run the meeting. I'll find out what's going on."

Dom flashed him a look of relief and Arthur excused himself quietly.

* * *

 

He saw a flash of Eames bracing himself above the bathroom sink when he first opened the door before Eames was on him.

"Christ, fuck you," Eames breathed between bites to his throat as he pushed Arthur into the door and struggled with his tie.

"You sure that's in your wheelhouse?" Arthur breathed back as he yanked Eames' belt open.

Eames _growled_ and gave up on the tie, pulling Arthur's shirt up so he could get to skin. Arthur gasped and arched into the touch, just as hungry and just as ready. He wanted to rip Eames to _shreds_.

Eames devoured his mouth, gathering him close and running his hands up Arthur's back. Arthur couldn't get his fingers to work well enough to undo Eames' buttons and he eventually gave up and clung to those trapezius muscles he'd been dying to touch. Eames rocked into him, and Arthur groaned.

Eames leaned back far enough to wrestle Arthur's pants open and slide them down to his thighs before sinking to the floor. He pulled the waistband of Arthur's underwear out over his cock, wasting no time in getting his lips wrapped around the head. The sight of those gorgeous lips slicking him up was enough to make Arthur close his eyes and lean his head back against the door.

Every time with Eames was like this, frantic, hurried, get it before you didn't get the chance. Eames bobbed enthusiastically and Arthur fucking loved it, wanted nothing else in this world but Eames' face in his crotch, but god, how his heart ached.

Arthur reached down to stroke his hand over Eames' ear and down his jaw. Eames looked up when he paused, his thumb at the corner of Eames' lips.

"Alright?" Eames asked as he pulled off.

And Arthur, his chest squeezing and his cock throbbing, nodded frantically. But he kept his hand under Eames' jaw, and when Eames started again, he went slower, watching Arthur. Arthur's eyes were locked on Eames', the red shine of his lips, the pumping of his hand, the torturous drag of his tongue were all second to the heat in his gaze. When he couldn't take another second, Arthur panted, "Wait," and gently guided Eames away. Eames looked a little confused, his other hand already in his own pants, but he came away willingly, still watching Arthur.

"Get up here," Arthur said when he'd caught his breath.

It was Eames' turn to raise an eyebrow and smirk, and damn it, it looked charming on him. Arthur pulled him into a kiss, not frantically ripping at clothes, not rutting against him, not biting or pawing. Just a kiss. His lips opened under Eames', delving and licking into Eames' mouth, and Eames let out a tiny sound, soft and sweet.

Arthur's entire body lit up at that sound. He chased it, eyes closed, seeking in the dark what he couldn't face in the light. And Eames stayed right with him, yielding and open. His wide, calloused palms came to frame Arthur's face, keeping him right where Eames wanted him, and Arthur made his own sound.

He pulled back and said, "Your hand. On both of us, now," but it was too late. Eames had heard him, breathy and needful.

"Darling." It was a quiet and adoring word, but he complied, lining them up and rubbing Arthur's still-slick cock against his own.

Arthur's breath stuttered out of him at the sensation, forehead falling against Eames' shoulder at the onslaught. "I've got you," Eames told him, and Arthur knew he did.

Eames kept their mouths pressed together and he worked them firmly, his pace only increasing as Arthur's hips started to move in time with his ministrations. Arthur had to stop kissing Eames and just hang on for dear life, teeth gritted to keep his moans in, breathing heavily and barely keeping it together.

"Yes, love, just like that," Eames murmured as he brushed kisses against Arthur's temple, cheek, ear.

A broken whimper escaped Arthur's grasp as his orgasm overtook him by surprise, spilling over Eames' fist and spattering his shirttail. Eames grunted his release a second later, and he slowly eased them through it. Arthur kept his eyelids squeezed shut until he was sure nothing was going to leak out from under them.

They panted against each other's shoulders, Arthur unsure if his legs would hold him up just yet, and trying to rake his emotions back inside before Eames pulled away. And then Eames pulled away.

Fuck. He was too close, his eyes seeing all too much. "You didn't say anything," Eames said, his voice warm and fond.

"I.." Arthur fumbled, trying to think, trying to stop thinking about Eames. "Risk management?" he said weakly.

"Oh, no," Eames said, clean hand pulling him close again, running carefully up and down his side. "It's too late for that." He kissed Arthur sweetly. "I've got your number." Then he kissed him again, and Arthur let him, floating on a cloud of possibility.


End file.
